J.LO'S MOM WINS $2.4 MILLION JACKPOT

ATLANTIC CITY, New Jersey (April 6) -- Jennifer Lopez's mother won a $2.4 million jackpot while playing $1 slots at Atlantic City. Guadalupe Lopez, 58, of New York, was playing Wheel of Fortune at the Bogata Hotel Casino & Spa when she hit for $2,421,291.76 just before 8 p.m. Saturday, according to the casino. Jennifer Lopez's publicist declined comment.

I saw the above headlined story on AOL the other day and I realized my suspicions have at last been proved correct.

For while most of you out there saw this and chalked it up to "another fun celebrity story" or, for my fans in Paramus, the kind of acid-trip windfall that could only occur in that Bizarro World known as "New Jersey."

But not me.

I've been on the case for years now. I've been tracking "these kinds of stories", X Files-like, for a good long time, and I can now reveal the truth of something otherworldly. "This kind of thing" happens and here's the reason why:

Many Hollywood stars have sold their souls to... the Devil!

Don't believe me?

Let's look at Ms. Lopez's case:

- Jennifer Lopez is not an opera singer and yet she has one hit album after another.

-  Jennifer Lopez is no Laurence Olivier either and yet she has one Top Ten movie following the last.

-  Jennifer Lopez almost marries Ben Affleck, then his career is mysteriously ruined when he turns her down.

And now this thing with her mother.

Have you ever played $1 slots?

Have you ever been to New Jersey?

If you didn't KNOW you were going to win $2.4 million would you go there?

You see my point?

There is no other possibility but that this deceptively sweet, small town girl has clearly made some kind of hellish "arrangement." And obviously Jennifer had a good lawyer because even her Mom, the aforementioned Guadalupe, is now in on the extra apples. Can there be any other explanation?

But Jennifer, or as she is called in the dark underworld, "J. Lo," is not alone here in Hollywood.

Let's look at some other celebrities from my files:

Another Jennifer, Jennifer "Love" Hewitt, is also "one of them." It's no coincidence that she strikes out again and again in movies, and yet, inexplicably keeps getting leading roles in major films. Jennifer "Love" Hewitt? I think not. I think it's more like Jennifer "Box Office Poison" Hewitt.

But let's just call it what it is:

Jennifer "I Heart Beelzebub" Hewitt.

And it doesn't stop there.

Does the name Conan O'Brien ring Hell's bell?

This is a man who is so not funny, so uncomfortable to look at on TV, so, NOT, that small children and animals have been known to turn to stone while gazing upon his visage.

And yet he has his own show.

He's been on TV for years.

His hairline has not receded a micro-inch!!

How is this possible?

Well, I think we know.

Now!

Some, like vegetable-ish comedian Carrot Top, director Kevin Smith and househusband Tom Arnold have played it coy about their relationship to the Dark Lord. Average Joes? Beer swilling morons? Kings of the Lowest Common Denominator? Ha! Try "willing slaves of Satan."

And let's not get me started about how Michael Douglas was able to land Catherine Zeta-Jones. You don't have to be Father Karras to see that connection. Quentin Tarrantino made a deal with the devil to get Kill Bill Volumes 1-8 made. Well, he made a deal with Harvey Weinstein anyway, and that's close enough. And let's not forget Jessica Simpson who married what's-his-name and became Queen of Pop only after she agreed to wed the Horned One and become Queen of The Brimstone Crib later. And let me just say two other words:

Kelly. Ripa.

Now do you believe me?

Of course I don't begrudge these folks their devilish deals. If you want to swap your mortal soul (or ink with PMK -- same thing) to be on the cover of Entertainment Weekly, fine. Be my guest. But maybe, in the interest of full disclosure, they should start listing these deals in Variety and Hollywood Reporter just so we know. They could announce them in a column titled "Heard In Hades" or "Show and Hell." And maybe Satan should just go ahead and open an agency along the concrete canyons of Wilshire corridor, and call it something snappy: 666 or Eternal Creative Management.

All I'm saying is next time you hear about a celebrity signing a multimillion dollar endorsement deal or catching some impossible break, you better think twice about how this came about. Savvy career control will only take you so far. At some point you've got to shake hands with the cloven hoof.

And/or sign with Endeavor.